


The Spirit of the Hero

by ClumsyDarknut



Series: The Making of a Hero [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 13:05:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18993220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClumsyDarknut/pseuds/ClumsyDarknut
Summary: When Hyrule finds itself threatened once again, nine incarnations of the beloved hero find themselves drawn together to defeat the evil. - - My take on jojo53860's LinkedUniverse AU over on Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

Link jolted awake. The cold air forced its way into his lungs more than he inhaled it. His heart pounded in his chest as he panted. _Wha-? Where-?_

Above him was a dark piece of sky outlined by thick branches. As the shock wore off he became aware of the chilled earth beneath him. He grasped at the soft pine needles on the forest floor to bring some life to his limbs. Bending his frozen fingers stung, but at least they still worked.

With some effort he sat up, putting a hand to his head. Soft moonlight outlined a small clearing, rimmed by towering pine trees. Only small tufts of grass poked up through the thick bed of needles and pinecones. Obviously, very few beings had ever set foot here, meaning that whatever forest this was, he was very deep into it. _But where exactly is this? More importantly, how did I get here?_ He squinted at the patch of stars above him, tracing from star to star in the hopes of finding a familiar constellation. None appeared, but very few were visible anyway.

Sighing, he turned his attention away from the sky. His fingers, though cold, were far from frostbitten, and none of the forest dust had seemed to settle on his soft green tunic. With further inspection he found the soles of his boots spotless, and his hair mostly without tangles. However he had gotten here, he hadn't been here long. _What was I doing? Where was I before?_

Images of a castle interior flashed through his mind. Warm smiles, laughter, music. Next to him, a woman in pink with beautiful auburn hair. _That's right. The feast. Her awakening feast. The Princess had just given a toast, and then…_ Link gasped and began searching his pockets. _Sword, shield, bow, potions, but where is it? It can't be gone._

At last, in the bottom of his rupee pouch, his hand clasped around the small wooden box. _It's still here. Good._ His relief quickly turned into confusion. _But if I still have it, what happened? I was about to make my toast, and…_ Try as he might, the last thing he could remember was clinking his goblet with his spoon. _This is all too strange. An invasion? But I seem unharmed. Magic, perhaps? But I wasn't wearing this tunic at the feast. What magic would change my clothes but also provide me with my weapons?_

The wind licked his face and sent a chill down his spine. Whatever had happened, trying to puzzle it out here would do little good. There was little in the way of shelter. Traversing the woods at night wasn't ideal either, but the moon was at its peak. The light wouldn't be this good for much longer.

Link pushed himself to his feet, adjusting his equipment. With another glance at the sky he found south and started off. Though the forest was dark, it was certainly not empty. Crickets chirped and a creek bubbled in the distance. If this was the forest he was thinking of, the nearest town would surely be south. Few pine forests grew so thickly in Hyrule as the ones on the northern border. Of course, that was on the assumption that this was, in fact, Hyrule. He tried to ignore that thought and instead take comfort in the familiarity of forest travel.

Several hours in the forest was not a bother to Link. As a child he had loved exploring the woods. Handy with a sword and fascinated by wildlife, it was one of those many adventures that led to his meeting with Impa. He had never really returned from that adventure. Then again, he hadn't much to return to in the first place. By then, the wilderness had become more of a home to him than… well, he couldn't remember much about his life in the village. Both life in the village and life in the castle seemed equally foreign to him.

 _But I can learn to live in a castle,_ he chuckled, ducking under another branch. _For her, I can learn to live in a castle._

As the moon began to dip the trees began to thin. Pine needle carpets gave way to more underbrush, and animal tracks became more common. He was entering a younger portion of the woods where the trees weren't quite so tall, letting him see further ahead. In the distance he could see the gleam of water. _No rumble of waves, so probably not a river. A lake, maybe?_ The water source was a good sign that civilization might be nearby. But just as the forest could harbor wolves and monsters, so could towns harbor thieves. He caught sight of a plume of smoke and tightened the strap on his wallet.

Link crept from the tree line into what appeared to be a traveler's town. The dirt road, winding along between cottages and small gardens, was well worn. The heavy wheel ruts told him it had seen many wagons. Other than the lake, the village seemed absent of any valuable resources. _Likely a halfway point between two larger towns. Far enough apart that a rest stop is warranted. There must be an inn of sorts somewhere._

Walking along the path, he quickly found what he was looking for. In the center of town, right on the waterfront, stood the town's only three-story building. Above the main doors hung a sign bearing "The White Wolfos Inn" in cracked blue and white paint. Propped up in one of the windows, a slate read "Home of Hyrule's Best Ale!" _So I am in Hyrule._ He reached for the door.

"It won't open. It's after hours."

The voice made Link jump. Left of the door on a bench sat a young man roughly the same age as he. About a head shorter, he sported a traveler's cloak, well-worn boots, brown trousers, and leather gauntlets. His golden hair was straight and cut off at the jaw, but wavy tufts here and there made it appear as though it took a lot of work to keep it that way. Across his forehead was tied a deep green headband, and beneath the cloak Link could see what looked like a tunic pieced together with four different colored fabrics – green, red, blue, and purple.

"I tried knocking already, and no luck," the boy continued, "but I'm not surprised, seeing it's about three in the morning." He gestured to the bench. Link took the seat but made sure to keep a hand on his wallet.

"This may seem like a strange question," Link began, "but may I ask what town this is? I seem to have gotten somewhat… turned around while hunting."

The boy raised his eyebrow. "Funny you should say that. I'm in a similar situation myself. Then again what other reason is there for arriving at an inn so late at night?"

Link chuckled. "I suppose you're right." Both fell silent. A few minutes passed and a slight wind gave Link a chill. He clenched and unclenched his fists and his fingers cried out for relief from the cold.

"Perhaps I will try knocking," he said at last and got to his feet. He gave three solid raps on the hard wood and paused to listen.

Just as he was going to knock again the door latch clicked and a figure pulled the door open enough to peek through. The other young man got to his feet at the sound. A curly-haired woman holding a lit candle peered through the gap.

"What do you want?" she asked firmly. Obviously this woman was in charge.

"Just lodging, ma'am," Link replied calmly. _Best not to appear suspicious._ "There are two of us out here looking for a bed and a warm fire, if they are to be had."

The woman sighed and opened the door further. Scanning both Link and the young man up and down, she swung the door wide and beckoned them inside. "Come in, come in, jus' be quick about it. God knows how many more o' ya will show up 'tween now an' sunrise. Every time I open this door it's another log on the fire and my husband won't be 'appy if he 'as to go cut more before breakfast."

"More of us?" the young man puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"Oh," the woman chuckled as she shut the door, "Nothin' by it young master. There've just been a few other travelers arrivin' tonight after hours. Seems as though that storm yesterday afternoon caught some by surprise and got a fair number o' people lost."

"Ah," Link said. _I suppose that's a lucky coincidence._

The woman led the two of them up to the second floor and down to the end of the hall. "I hope you masters don't mind sharing a room. We're hosting a party what got stranded by the storm and so we're a bit short on space. If it's any comfort to ya there are two cabinets that lock solid fer any of yer belongings need safekeeping." She pulled a large key ring out of the pocket of her wool robe and fingered through until she found what she was looking for, poking the key into the lock and giving it a twist. The door swung open to reveal a simple, cozy room with two beds, a hearth, a washbasin, and two large chestnut armoires. "There ought to be firewood, and the bedding is all fresh. Regular pricing is 30 rupees a night wit' breakfast, but we can discuss tha' in the mornin'. Would the masters like me to send someone to start the fire?"

"No, thank you ma'am," the young man replied. "Your hospitality is much appreciated."

The woman nodded, satisfied. "Well, best of rest to ya. Keys to the room and the cabinets should be on the pillows. If ya need anythin', housekeepin' is the door at the top o' the stairs."

The woman retreated down the hall, leaving Link and the stranger to settle in. Neither seemed particularly comfortable sharing the space, but both found the alternative – sleeping out front in the cold – undesirable enough that neither mentioned their discomfort. _He seems polite enough,_ Link thought. _Still, better lock up my things._

Link took the closer bed and began removing his equipment. The young man set to lighting a fire, giving him the opportunity to stow his more valuable items in secret. Most travelers had wallets, but few had rarities like his magic rod. It was better no one knew he had such an item; locks were only meant to keep honest people honest, as thieves could and would pick locks. A prize like that was one no thief could resist.

He kept a wary eye on his roommate as he too began settling in. When the stranger removed his cloak, Link was tempted to stare. The tunic he boasted was pieced together from four different tunics laced with gold embroidery. Link would have been convinced he was royalty if the four colors weren't stitched together so haphazardly with thick brown yarn. The boy was also quite spindly. The only thing that told Link they were the same age was the lack of baby fat on his jaw. Something about him seemed familiar, too, but logic kept his curiosity at bay. When the stranger laid a gold-hilted shortsword on the bedspread, Link pretended not to notice. _Just another traveler. It isn't as if my blade is any less impressive._

Link considered locking his blade in his cabinet, but instead propped it against the bed. The silver, ruby-encrusted hilt shimmered in the dim light. If the stranger noticed it, he hadn't let it show.

Finished settling in and itching for warmth, Link slipped off his boots and crawled into the soft feather bed. Now, with only the crackling fire to break the silence, the strangeness of his situation came to the forefront of his mind. Where exactly was he? How had he gotten here? Most importantly, how was he to get back? Were his friends okay? Was _she_ okay? What of Hyrule? The innkeeper had let them in in the dead of night without a lick of suspicion, so if Hyrule were in crisis, she didn't seem to know. The frustration of trying to remember what had happened didn't lend itself to easy sleep, but he was warm. Warm and alive. That would have to do for the night, and he could figure out the rest in the morning.

In the other bed, unbeknownst to Link, the stranger lay plagued by the same questions.


	2. Chapter 2

A knock at the door and a shout of "Breakfast!" startled Link awake. Though he had only a few hours of sleep, he felt well rested and alert. His roommate, however, did not seem so.

"I don't remember asking for a wakeup call…" he grumbled. "Do you s'pose there will still be food in an hour or so?"

"Not hot food, to be sure," Link chuckled. The young man groaned again. Link pushed back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for his boots. "By the way, thanks for not killing me in the night and running off with my wallet."

The stranger belted a muffled laugh into his bedding. "No problem. I also appreciate not being dead." With a grunt the boy pushed himself to his seat and swung his legs over the bed. Link almost laughed when he saw his toes barely reached the floor. The boy shoved on his boots and pulled his tunic over his head. Link had already donned his own tunic and his gauntlets were already laced, but he hesitated to leave without the stranger. An awkward sort of familiarity kept him wanting the company, despite not knowing him. Perhaps it was simply that they were similar in age, or that they had arrived at the same time, but regardless of the real reason Link thought it best he appear to be traveling with a group rather than alone. _Better deterrent against unsavory folk,_ he thought.

The stranger finished strapping his sword to his back and followed Link out the door into the narrow hallway. The heavy scent of pumpkin soup wafted up the stairs along with soft music and the mumble of conversation. As they descended into the common area Link also picked up hints of seared venison and fresh bread. _Quite the inn for 30 rupees a night._ The commons were already filled with people, though most were grouped together. _Probably the party that got stranded._

"Ah, good morning masters!" the innkeeper greeted with a smile. "Hope the beds were satisfact'ry? Take a seat an' one o' the girls will 'ave breakfast to you shortly. Mind you we'll still needs to be discussing payment 'fore you leave, so don't go sneakin' off!"

The innkeeper laughed and continued on with her work. Link and the young man made their way across the room to an empty table just out of earshot of the large party. Sure enough, food was brought almost the instant they sat down. Neither spoke as they ate, ravenously inhaling the deliciously fresh meal. Link hadn't realized how hungry he was until creamy pumpkin soup slid its way into his empty stomach.

"Wow," the stranger mumbled through a mouthful, "I haven't had venison in such a long time."

Link raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were hunting when you got lost, same as me."

The boy blinked several times and swallowed hard. "I, um… mostly hunt small game, you know?" He chuckled nervously. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm not very large. Doubt I could haul a decent buck back home by myself."

Link laughed. "I suppose that's true." They ate in silence again until little more than crusts of bread remained.

"Well," Link began again, clearing his throat, "Do you think they have a map?"

"Probably, let's see." The stranger flagged down one of the serving girls.

"Yes, sir, though we only have one," she replied sheepishly. She pointed to a table in the far corner. "The master over there is using it now."

Link waved the girl off with a thank you and took a good look at the man seated with the map. Though cloaked, it was easy to tell he was a force to be reckoned with. He looked to be in his early thirties and likely nearing six feet tall, with heavyset shoulders and hands rough from labor. He wore leather gauntlets plated with gold armor, and the lay of his cloak told Link he had a full suit to match. Despite his hood being drawn closely, bright yellow hair peeked out from the darkness and framed a sharp, angular face. Leaning against the back of the man's chair was an incredibly large claymore.

"We probably shouldn't bother him," the young man said. Link nodded in agreement. "Where are you headed anyway?" he continued.

"That depends on where I'm at," Link replied. "Though likely I'll be headed to Castle Town." He omitted the fact that he'd be going there for the castle more than the town. "Yourself?"

"Seems like the more we talk the more we have in common," the stranger smiled. "You're not my double now are you?"

Link chuckled. "If I were some kind of magical doppelganger, wouldn't my hair at least be the same color?"

"True, true," the boy laughed. He made a quick glance around the room. "Seeing as neither of us has killed the other yet, may I ask your name?"

Link opened his mouth to answer when the bang of the door and a shriek from a serving girl interrupted. Both of them reached for their weapons.

"My goodness lad, what's happened?" the innkeeper gasped.

"Nothing, ma'am, I'm fine." A young man wearing a tattered cloak and leaning on a cracked sword hobbled further into the commons. "I'm only in need of a map, is there one I can use?"

"Fine is _not_ the word I would choose!" the woman sputtered. "Dear, you're covered in blood! Take a seat an' le' me take a look atcha."

The young man pulled back his hood in exasperation, revealing long sandy hair tied back in a loose ponytail and what Link could only describe as the bloodiest minor head injury he had ever seen. Clearly only a scrape, the forehead wound gushed profusely down the boy's frustrated face. Link was tempted to laugh at the innkeeper fretting until he saw the gash in the man's side and the bloodied state of his sky blue tunic.

"Ma'am, I just had a run-in with a moblin or two. I'm fine. May I _please_ see a map?" The innkeeper's jaw dropped open for a moment before closing with a _harrumph_. She pointed to the man in the corner, who hadn't looked up, and the young man dashed across the room as quickly as his limp would let him. As soon as his back was turned the innkeeper called over her girls and disappeared into the back room.

Link looked back at his roommate and gestured to the map table. The young man shrugged, and they both stood.

"You really should have that seen to," they heard the older man say as they approached.

"Just a scratch," the younger replied, "I've seen worse."

"Doesn't change the fact that you should have that seen to," the man repeated. He looked up at the two approaching boys. "Do you two need the map as well? I'm happy to share my table."

Link gave a start at seeing the man's face clearly. On his right cheek were two thin, blood red stripes, and on his forehead an outline of a sword point in dark blue. Most shocking, however, was the thick, deep scar over the man's right eye. Despite his grizzled face, his one blue eye showed soft kindness. Link shook off the surprise and took a seat with a thank you.

"Ah, of course, the map is already crowded." A new voice approached the table. "Good God, man, what happened to you?"

The owner of the voice was dressed in a layered tunic of crimson and green, and looked to be a few years older than Link. His knee-high leather boots boasted weathered metallic wings and inlaid patterns of wind. His smug but shocked expression was framed by poofy dark blonde hair. Link could have sworn he saw strands that were tinted pink. Atop his head sat a long blue hat that tapered to a point near his mid back. That took Link aback. Had he not been sure this man was a total stranger, he could have sworn that hat was once his own.

"I'm fine," the bloodied boy hissed.

"Like hell you are," the man scoffed, "You're bleeding out."

"Bleedin' out all over my dining hall." The innkeeper reappeared with a crew of girls carrying towels and bandages. "If ya won't take proper treatment at least le' me stop ya from ruinin' my only map."

"I don't have _time_ for this," the boy shouted, weakly pushing off the serving girls. "I _have_ to get to the castle. I can't stop to take care of… something… so… minor…" Link's eyes boggled as the pale traveler wobbled and collapsed. The innkeeper yelped and the newcomer lunged forward to catch him, lowering him gently to the floor.

"Whoa there," he cringed, "He's out cold. Anyone have a red potion?"

"I have one in my room," Link and his roommate chimed in unison. They both exchanged odd glances.

"No need." The older man knelt down next to the fallen boy and removed a bottle from his pouch. Popping the lid off, a glowing pink fairy floated daintily out of the container. With a whirl and a glimmer, the young man's gashes knit back together and color came back to his face.

The stranger in red gave a whistle. "Wow, old man, where'd you find one of those?"

"I travel," he replied, stowing the bottle again. "Fairies are a handy friend to have, though they only come out if friendship is your true intention." The stranger gave a thoughtful squint.

The boy in blue inhaled sharply and let out a hefty cough. The innkeeper squeaked in surprise, putting a hand to her chest. Composing herself, she cleared her throat. "I s'pose that means my girls can go back to work, then?"

"He should be fine, ma'am," the grizzled man put in. The woman nodded blankly, then returned to the kitchens shaking her head and mumbling something about unwanted surprises.

"Ugh…" the collapsed boy groaned, "What…? Where…?"

"Still at the inn," the red-clad man grimaced, "Passed out and just about died. Lucky some of us have the sense to carry healing items. What are you doing wandering around with half your spleen hanging out?"

The boy shook his head and shakily got to his feet. "It's none of your concern, but it is _very_ important that I get where I'm going." The man was about to protest further when a gilded gauntlet cut him off.

"The map is right here," the older man said calmly. "It would appear all five of us are a bit lost, am I correct? Last I checked it was possible for strangers to share a table without invading each other's privacy." The group exchanged looks. "Take a seat, young masters."

The high energy in the tavern dwindled back to a hum as the group settled awkwardly around the map. The older man seemed to ignore the tension of distrust at the table and took up describing their current location – a town called Beaverville on the road between two other towns Link hadn't heard of. Just as he had guessed, the town was deep in the Great North Forest, but the more he looked at the map, the less sure of where he was. _How old is this map?_ He noted familiar landmarks such as Death Mountain and Spectacle Rock, but most were not positioned quite how he had remembered and fewer still bore names that sparked his memory. Caution prompted him to pretend he recognized the place. It would be strange if a hunter presumably lost in this forest had never heard of the nearby towns.

"From how I understand it," the older man continued, "Anyone looking to go further south should head west to Lehara, which seems to be a hub of sorts. Anyone looking to head into the mountains would be better served by Pocatai to the northeast."

The boy in blue stood abruptly. "Then I guess west it is. Thank you for the assistance."

"Wait," cut in the man in red, "I am also headed west. Care for a traveling companion? Better to start out together than for me to find you dead on the road later."

The boy looked irritated, but had no chance to respond before the shortest of them chimed in.

"I and my fellow are also headed west, to Castle Town," he said, adjusting his green headband. Link nodded in confirmation.

"To Castle Town?" the young man remarked. "Strange, that is also my destination."

The four of them turned to look at their grizzled senior.

"Well," he half-laughed, "I suppose we're all headed the same way." His face turned a shade darker. "Strange, though. Five strangers all lost so far from home."

Anxious glances were passed around the table. It was true. The castle was easily two week's travel by horse. It was clear none of them were simply lost hunters. Link fingered his sword, waiting for someone to speak.

"Funny how quickly trust can be shattered," the man in red coughed. "Even so, we're all on the same path. May as well stick together.

The shortest boy tugged on his tunic belt and nodded. "Safety in numbers."

The boy in blue shifted from foot to foot before agreeing. "I guess I could spare an hour to gather supplies."

"I doubt we'll even need that long," Link put in. "I can leave at any time."

"As can I," the older man added.

"Me too," Link's fellow concurred.

"Not me." The man adjusted his red tunic and glanced over at the innkeeper. "I haven't eaten yet. It's not often I get to enjoy a home-cooked meal. Perhaps we reconvene in, say, half an hour?"

The group agreed and left to prepare for departure. Link found the innkeeper and paid her his due before heading up to his room. He did his best to mask his anxiety; the boy in blue was not the only one with a need for haste. If the headbanded boy also required urgency, he gave no sign, buckling every belt and bag with relaxed surety. The two equipped the rest of their gear in a silence more intense than that of the night before. _I suppose questioned trust is more frightening than trust not had_. He was glad the injured boy had interrupted their conversation before he had given his name.

Link returned to the commons, his roommate following cautiously, to find the innkeeper hassling the boy in blue while the man in red snickered profusely.

"I don't give a clucking cucco abou' no fairy magic," she insisted, trying to force a bowl of soup into his hands, "No potion or spell will do ya any good on an empty stomach!"

"Ma'am, please, I am _fine_."

"If it's payin' me you're worried abou' you can stop yer frettin', this is on the house."

"Could I pay you _not_ to give me food?"

"You suggestin' I'd accept money in exchange fer lettin' a man kill himself? There aren't enough rupees in all Hyrule for that!"

"You haven't seen my wallet yet."

Link chuckled but sat next to his fellow solemnly. _Either that one's incredibly skilled with a blade, or incredibly naïve._ Several members of the stranded party had begun eavesdropping at the talk of rupees. _I hope that doesn't bring us trouble later on._

The boy in blue took the seat next to Link with a grumble, nearly splashing pumpkin soup out of the bowl as he slammed it on the table. Link took the opportunity to study his new companion further.

He had cleaned up a bit – or more likely forcibly been cleaned. Blood no longer stained his face and his hair was less tangled, but surprisingly he almost looked worse off. A spiderweb of pinkish scars laced its way down the left side of his face and neck, tainting what would have been beautifully fair skin. _The skin of a noble_. The tunic seemed to match that observation. Though stained and bearing a massive tear in the side, the fine cotton was durable and embroidered with unnaturally bright silver thread. Down the center of the garment Link could pick out the pattern of a sword beneath the many belts strapping weapons to the man's back. The weapons didn't seem to fit the noble appearance, however. The sword bore no sheath, the shield no grips, and the bow had certainly seen better days.

One thing in particular baffled Link. Strapped next to the stranger's obviously bulging wallet was a rectangle made of a material he could not place. The tablet was a deep brown with a handle cut into the top, and across it in luminescent orange and blue was inlaid the pattern of an eye – a deep, wide, piercing eye, calling to the back of Link's mind for a spark of recognition that didn't want to ignite.

"You like this, do you?" Link nearly flinched at the sudden interruption to his thoughts as the long-haired boy pulled the tablet from his belt. _Guess I wasn't being as discreet as I thought._

"It's intriguing," Link said, "I don't think I've seen that material before."

"I'm not sure what it's made of either," the boy puzzled, "It's quite handy, though. I-"

"I wouldn't discuss that in the open, if I were you," the man in red hissed across the table. He tilted his head in the direction of the other party.

The boy glanced over and then replaced the slate on his belt. "What do you know of it?"

The man crossed his arms over his chest. "Nothing, never seen it before. I just know what a group of thieves look like when they're tempted by a mark. If we're going to travel together I'd rather _not_ be bothered by bandits, especially when _I'm_ not their target."

"Agreed," the headbanded boy breathed.

Almost as if on cue, the oldest of the five arrived at the table. "Good, we're all here. Prepared to leave, I presume?"

"As long as Mr. Reckless here doesn't have any other valuables he wants to broadcast," the man in red growled, "we should be all set."

"It was _your_ idea to travel together," the boy muttered as they stood.

Link sighed. This was going to be a long walk.


	3. Chapter 3

The soft frost coating the forest began to harden into ice as the sun started to dip. Link and his fellows had been on the road for the better part of the day and made good time. His companions were surprisingly adept at foot travel; none had requested a stop, and all kept a brisk pace easily despite the chill. Even so, their speed wasn't enough to beat the swift autumn sunset and the shadows of the tall pines.

"This looks like a good place to make camp," the eldest man suggested from his place at the head of the group. "The road widens here but then narrows into a curve, leaving this clearing on the right here mostly unseen from either direction."

"Seems well enough," the man in red yawned. "Shorty, you seem handy. Help me get a fire started."

The headbanded boy raised an eyebrow but followed into the brush. The walk had been mostly silent, but when there had been talking it was done by the man in red. He deemed it necessary to curse at the wind every time it chilled him or swear at a bug every time he was bitten. One could argue the only conversation was a faceplant followed by a shout of "Damn pine roots!" and some raucous laughter by the wild boy in blue. Link guessed it wasn't so much actual discomfort that caused the complaints; more likely this was the man's method of keeping himself sane. _A relatable sentiment._

"I'll hunt," the boy in blue said.

"I'll come with you," Link put in, "I'm pretty good at tracking." That was true, though not his primary reason for volunteering. He was fairly certain the boy would get himself into trouble and end up hurt or dead if he went alone. That wasn't something Link wanted to see, even if they were strangers. _Even she was a stranger to me once._

A twang of sadness pinched in his chest as he and the other boy set off. An image of auburn hair and pink silk cascading over the side of a stone platform lingered in the back of his mind. _I woke her up for the kingdom. Because it was the right thing. Even if it hadn't worked, it would have been worth it._ He put a hand to the square-shaped lump in his wallet. _I hope she's okay._

"We ought to gather herbs as well," the wild boy hummed, plucking a thistle from the ground and interrupting Link's somber thoughts. "Especially these ones. Reddish thistles like this go excellently with venison."

Link cocked his head. "You sound pretty certain about finding a deer out here."

"Well, I mean, it goes well with boar and poultry, too," he shrugged. "Carp as well, though other fish not so much."

Link laughed and joined in collecting the red plants. The boy in blue pointed out a few other 'tasty' types of foliage as they searched the darkening woods for signs of game. They had a good bag full of herbs, nuts, and berries when finally they found something.

"Over here," the boy in blue whispered, crouching in the brush. "Fresh deer droppings."

"Very fresh," Link replied, "Probably very close by." The two scoured the surrounding earth. The frozen ground didn't lend itself to holding tracks, but several bent tufts of underbrush gave them a direction. The boy in blue removed his bow from his back.

A few minutes of swift, careful creeping through the trees, and Link spotted it. A doe, eating purplish berries off of a spindly bush not 30 yards away. He beckoned to the other boy, who had an arrow knocked. The boy in blue spotted what Link was pointing at settled into a low crouch, lifting his bow and drawing the string back. The calmness in his stature as he took aim impressed Link; archery had never been a strong suit of his, but this boy's eyes said he intended – and expected – to hit his mark.

The boy released the arrow with a _fwip_. Instantly, Link could tell something was wrong. Branches cracked and the thud he was expecting when the arrow landed was replaced by a cry of pain and a curse. The doe leapt off into the shadows without a trace. Link and the boy exchanged shocked looks and rushed to where it had been.

"Are you alright?" an unfamiliar voice called.

"Peachy," another replied. Link began digging out a potion when he saw the figure it belonged to. Kneeling on one knee and clutching his left arm was a young man in a heavy green tunic. A wolf pelt lining his collar, light mail beneath, and a shield strapped to his back, he was obviously well-traveled. Sunk deep into his shoulder was the arrow.

"How…? Where…?" the boy in blue stammered. Link heard two sets of footsteps stumble out of the brush but didn't look up from the wound.

"Not your fault," the injured man grunted, "I jumped in front of it."

"Miracle it didn't hit your head," one of the strangers breathed.

Link uncorked his potion and offered it to the man. Strikingly blue eyes met his. Between them a jagged spiral of gray ink crawled its way up onto the man's forehead before falling down along his nose, and feathery stripes crinkled in suspicion above his eyebrows and along his cheekbones. "It's only a red potion."

The man eyed it again but took it, yanking the arrow from his shoulder before downing it in one gulp. The skin immediately began to knit itself. "Thanks. All I've got on me is lantern oil."

"Why did you block my kill?" the boy in blue asked, "That was our party's food for the night."

"That doe was pregnant," the man sighed. "It's hard to tell from looks, but their scat smells a little different."

"Does that matter?" the wild boy huffed, "Pretty sure they taste the same pregnant or not. And you could have died!" The young man glared fiercely but didn't reply.

"We'll share our catch if that makes up for it. We got a good-sized buck and a wild boar not long ago." Link finally looked up to the two strangers. The one who spoke was young, perhaps two years older than himself, with sandy brown hair and fair skin. He wore a light green tunic, thin chainmail, and a deep red wrap belted over both. Over his shoulders was tied a white cloak bearing a large blue bird. The other man was older, likely in his mid-twenties. Dressed in lush, finely woven green cotton and shiny silver mail, he carried himself with an air of authority and poise. His vibrantly blonde hair framed a handsome face and contrasted starkly with the royal blue scarf draped over his shoulders; the glow of twilight glinted off his polished silver arm braces.

"We were stocking up in case we were lost for much longer," the blonde man added, "but if you fellows know where the road is, then we won't have much other use for so much meat."

Link helped the fur-clad man to his feet. "I suppose we can add a few more strangers to our party," he chuckled. "Which way are you headed?"

The three newcomers exchanged glances before the blonde man replied, "That depends on where we're at, though probably Castle Town for me."

"Castle Town?" the boy in blue puzzled, "Strange, that's where our party is headed."

"Strange indeed," the fur-clad man hummed. He stretched his shoulder with a wince. "Looks like my arm's a little tender. Lend a hand with the buck? It's a bit large for just one."

The boy in blue nodded, and they followed the strangers into the brush to where their kills lay waiting. The buck was indeed quite large, and the boar equally impressive. Link helped the blonde man and the boy in blue heft the deer onto their shoulders while the man in the white cloak took the boar.

"This is going to be delicious," the boy in blue smirked as they set off for camp.

"Who shot these?" Link asked. He couldn't help but admire the precision – each had been dispatched right in the eye.

"I did," the white-cloaked man answered.

"I'm impressed," Link conceded, "I'm not much of an archer myself." The white-cloaked man blushed slightly and hefted the boar higher on his shoulders.

The rest of the walk passed in silence. Though the three newcomers had been together, Link got the impression that they were also strangers. No one mentioned names. Both the blonde man and the one in fur had weapons equipped and readily accessible. The man in white appeared to have a sword and shield as well, but both were covered by his cloak. He also had a look of deep confusion. _I guess it's not impossible that they were stranded by the storm, but to also be going to Castle Town? There is definitely something strange happening._

They reached the camp just as the light drained from the sky. The others had a strong fire burning in the middle of the clearing, tossing shadows up against the trees.

"Praise Hylia! We've found the road!" The blonde man ducked out from under the deer he carried and sprinted to the dirt path, leaving the wild boy to stumble about under the unbalanced weight with a disgruntled shout. The headbanded boy and the man in red got to their feet, putting hands to their weapons.

"Just some more lost travelers," Link said, "also headed to Castle Town. They agreed to share their catch." The white-cloaked man laid down the boar next to the fire and offered them a small nod.

"We'll have to redistribute blankets, then." The eldest man had just entered the clearing from the far side, carrying a bundle of wood and no longer wearing his armor. He turned to the pile of woolen bundles near the fire and picked up the largest, then tossed it to the fur-clad man. "We bought ten from the inn in Beaverville – the closest town. I have my cloak, so I'll only need one."

The fur-clad man took a moment to respond, stuttering a quick thank you. The wild boy followed suit and tossed one of his own rolls to the blonde man, who nodded in gratitude.

"Well I'll be keeping both of mine," the man in red announced. "I don't have a cloak, and I don't want to freeze during the night."

"You can take mine," the shortest boy said, handing a roll to the man in white. "I'm small enough that one will be plenty, and I have my cloak as well."

"It is greatly appreciated," he smiled. "My cloak isn't big enough to make a good blanket."

"Perhaps take my spare as well then," Link put in. He was quite accustomed to sleeping in the cold and wouldn't mind sacrificing a layer.

"Better not," the man in red cut in. "What would we do if _another_ lost stranger showed up? Then I'd _have_ to give up my spare."

Laughs passed around the camp, but they were quickly replaced by a silent tension. _There_ are _quite a few of us. Who are these strangers, exactly?_

The eight men unrolled their beds in silence, casting suspicious glances at their fellows. The fur-clad man in particular was especially nervous. Each time Link looked at him, he was watching the eldest man intently. _I doubt he's taken his eyes off of him. Does he realize?_

The wild boy took less than a minute to lay out his bedroll and jumped right into butchering the buck. Link was awed at his skill; every cut careful but quick, every slice clean and precise. When he had finished with his own bed the boy had naught but a carcass left and was already working on the boar.

"I'd love to get more of this frozen," he mumbled, working off a portion of hide. "Beautiful kills, really. It's a shame most of it has to go for jerky. What I wouldn't give for some ice arrows."

"Ice arrows?" The eldest man raised an eyebrow. "That's a pretty rare item, wouldn't you say?"

"Not really. I saw a bundle of fifty or so at the market last week and I really wish I had bought them."

Link shared confused glances with the others seated around the fire. _Ice arrows?_

The eldest man stroked his chin. "A bundle? That's new. Though I haven't been to a proper market in quite some time."

"Is there another way they come?" the wild boy asked, glancing up from the boar.

"Well, I have my spell stone for them. I'd offer to use it, but I'm a bit low on magic."

That made more sense to Link. He was well acquainted with casting spells, and he supposed creating arrows with the power to freeze things could very likely be a spell he wasn't acquainted with. The others still looked puzzled, however, and this time the wild boy joined their ranks.

"I've got something that'll work," the man in red announced, having just finished with his bedroll. Link gave a start. From his things the man removed a shiny silver scepter tipped with a large blue crystal. It was short and looked fairly lightweight. The man in red tossed it back and forth from hand to hand and swung it like a baton with ease. _A magic rod? I thought mine was the only one._

"Whoa, an ice rod!" the boy in blue grinned. "I haven't seen one of those in ages!"

"Mhmm. And lucky for you, I'm full on magic." The two set to arranging the excess meat on a tarp, Link and the other five men watching curiously. The boy in blue took a step back, his face plastered with an eager smile.

The man in red took a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding the rod in front of his face. Link felt the familiar tingle of magic before he saw it. The man took on a slight glimmer, his hair waving slightly as if brushed by a breeze and the rod beginning to glow. The man opened his eyes and swung the jewel down at the meat with a grunt. From the crystal burst a cloud of snowflakes and bluish energy. Link heard several of the other men gasp, and his own lips parted in surprise. The nebula of ice collided with the tarp and instantly covered their catch in thick frost before dissipating with a puff.

"There, that should keep it unspoiled for a while," the man remarked with a smirk.

"Impressive," the eldest man said, "May I see?"

The man in red shrugged and tossed it to him while the boy in blue began wrapping up the frozen morsels. The group expected the grizzled traveler to say something as he examined the treasure, but he didn't look up from the glittering scepter. After a moment the man gave a start, as if remembering there were other people there, and tossed the rod back to its owner.

"Beautiful craftmanship," he coughed. "Shall we get started on food?"

The wild boy was an exceptionally good cook, Link discovered, though it wasn't a surprise based on his skillful butchering and extensive knowledge of herbs. With little aid the boy threw together delicious meat skewers seasoned with a pinkish flower they had gathered on the hunt. Each bite of the kebab filled Link's belly with warmth as well as curbing his hunger, and the pops of fresh rock salt – the boy's "personal supply" – were a pleasantly tasty addition. When everyone had had their fill, they each retreated to their bedrolls, leaving only the boy in blue to tend the fire and the deer jerky he had smoking.

As Link crawled into his bedroll, he once again became uneasy. _I don't know any of these people. How did I end up here? How did_ they _end up here? This can't be coincidence… or can it? Can I trust them not to kill me in my sleep?_ He glanced around at the other blanketed lumps. They had agreed that two people would take watch at a time, the first watch being the wild boy and the man in white. The second would be the eldest of them and the blonde man with the scarf, followed by the wolf-pelt boy and the man in red, followed by the shortest traveler and himself. It gave him some comfort to know he shared the watch with the same person he had shared a room with the night before, but it wasn't enough to invite a comfortable sleep.

_Perhaps counting the stars will help,_ he thought. He shifted onto his back and peered up through the needle-laced canopy. Small, twinkling lights peeked through between thick pine branches and the dancing shadows of the dim fire. Link took a breath. _The wild never really changes, I suppose._ He watched the stars vanish and reignite as the clouds passed overhead in a peaceful dance, his eyelids slowly getting heavier and heavier. _Even if I can't trust them, I can trust the wild._ His eyes locked onto a particularly bright star as his mind began to fog. The pinprick disappeared behind a cloud and in his half-asleep haze he waited for it to reappear. _It sure is taking a while._ The thought floated through his brain like a potato in pumpkin stew. _Must be a pretty big cloud this time._ He glanced at surrounding pinpricks, and his stomach dropped. _That's not a cloud._

"There's someone out there!" the boy in blue shouted. In seconds all eight men were on their feet, searching the darkness with their backs to the fire.

"Where? What did you see?" the blonde man barked, weapon in hand.

"Didn't see, heard," the boy hissed, nocking an arrow. "No idea where it came from. Sounded like it was right on top of us."

"Footsteps? Voices?" The man in red demanded. The eldest man drew his claymore and the fur-clad man his sword.

"Neither," the man in white growled. He held his cloak-wrapped weapon tightly by the sheath, other hand clenching the hilt. "I heard it too. Rustling of branches. Methodical. Too rhythmic for an animal."

Link held his shield firmly, frantically searching the branches above for what he had seen. _Where is it?! Where did it go?!_ The headbanded boy took notice and turned his eyes upward.

"It's in the trees!" he yelled. The boy in blue turned his bow to the sky while the man in red lit a torch.

"Show yourself!" the eldest bellowed.

The men tensed as a branch broke with a _crack_.

"WhooaaaaAAAAHHHnngDJAH!"

Now in the middle of their camp, having fallen out of a tree, was a teenage boy. He was rather lanky, wearing a bright sky-blue tunic bearing an imprint of a lobster and sandals quite unsuited to the cold weather. His wild, poofy yellow hair framed a young face, which grimaced in pain at the hard landing. His black eyes and dark, thick eyebrows told Link he wasn't from Hyrule, but the pointed ears said he definitely was. Link would have thought he was harmless if he hadn't been equipped to the nines with weaponry.

"Hands!" the wild boy growled, pulling his bowstring back. "Don't even think about your sword!"

The newcomer winced and lifted his hands slowly. "Geez, I just fell out of a tree, you think I'm capable of killing you all?"

"Quiet!" the man in red ordered. He looked to the boy in blue. "See, I told you showing off that trinket would bring us trouble!"

"Didn't stop you from showing off that ice rod…" the boy mumbled back. The man in red didn't notice.

"What are you doing in our camp?" the eldest man spoke sternly.

"Falling out of a tree, obviously." The eldest glared and the newcomer gulped. "Alright alright! I saw the smoke and figured maybe I could get warm here! That's it! Honest!"

"Why climb a tree, then?" the blonde man snarled. "Sounds like a scout to me! Are there more of you?"

"No! No, I'm alone! Just… I, uh…" The boy glanced around sheepishly. "I… wanted to smell the jerky better. I haven't eaten in days."

Almost on cue the boy's stomach growled loudly. The men exchanged glances. After a minute the man in white stepped forward.

"Take off your weapons, and we'll talk. I'll put down mine first." The man crouched and laid his sword in front of the blonde boy. His dark eyebrows crinkled in distrust as he searched the man's face, but slowly began unhooking his shield. After a few more tense moments, the boy was weapon free and they collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Link sheathed his sword and the others followed suit.

"Sorry," the boy offered timidly. "I've been hopelessly lost all last night and all of today and I'm really not dressed for the weather. Probably shouldn't have snuck up on you, though."

"Definitely not," the man in red scoffed.

"Hey," the fur-clad man snapped, "It's not like he could have yelled, 'Hello! Strangers! I'm lost and all by myself! Can I get directions?!' That's just as dangerous." He turned back to the newcomer. "You're welcome to some of our food – we have plenty."

"Thank you very much," the boy replied. "Though I probably could have yelled that and avoided bruising myself falling out of a tree." The group chuckled.

"I suppose that means I should redo my bedroll?" Link put in. He crouched next to his spot and pulled one of the blankets off, tossing it to the newcomer.

"Oh wow," the newcomer breathed, "Thank Hylia for meeting strangers in the woods. My toes… they can't do another night in the cold."

"Why sandals?" the man with the scarf asked.

"Oh, I'm not from around here," the boy said casually, brushing some dirt off the wool blanket. "I live on an island. Much warmer there. I've never seen a forest this big or this cold."

The group passed around puzzled looks. _Island? The ocean is nowhere near this forest. Twice the distance to Hyrule Castle and then some. And he's lost here? What is going on?_

"Say, what's your name, son?" the eldest man asked.

"My name?" The boy ran a hand through his hair. "It's Link."


	4. Chapter 4

In an instant Link had his sword to the newcomer's throat, gripping his blue tunic by the collar. Around him he heard the ring of more swords being drawn and the creak of the wild boy's bow drawing back. The newcomer's face drained, gulping against the cool steel pressed to his neck.

"Whoa, I- What?" the boy stammered, raising his hands hesitantly.

"Where did you learn that name?" Link growled.

The boy's eyebrows raised in genuine surprise. "I, u-um, it's mine?"

Link was certain at this point one of the other men was going to step in, tell him to calm down, suggest he put down his weapon – he could feel the tense eyes on him all around. _So much for building trust._ He glanced at the wild boy, his bow taught and eyes focused. Focused on his mark. Focused on… the boy?

Link pushed that mystery to the back of his mind, gripping the boy's tunic tighter. "That can't be your name. Where did you hear it?!"

"I-I swear to Hylia I have no idea what you're talking about!" the boy sputtered. "It's just my name! Honest!"

"It can't be your name, because it's mine!" Link shouted. The boy's mouth fell open in shock.

"Wait, _what?_ "

The question didn't come from the boy. Link looked over his shoulder at the fur-clad man, his own lips parting in surprise.

"Link. That's _my_ name. That… is what you said, right?"

Link nodded slowly. Suddenly an arrow whizzed past his pointed ear and embedded itself in the man's shield. He whipped his head around to the boy in blue, who already had another arrow knocked and drawn.

"What sort of Yiga tactic is this?" the boy snarled, "Is using my name supposed to lower my guard? Catch me unprepared? Calling yourself Link gives you away, traitors!"

"Traitor?!" the man with the scarf fumed. From his collar he removed a ring on a chain around his neck; the ring bore the royal crest. " _You_ are the traitor, for impersonating _me_ , Link, _Captain of the Royal Guard!_ "

The man in red lifted his sword to the blonde man's neck, resting the point under his chin. "The same Royal Guard who declared me, _Link_ , a felon, and aided in the Princess's capture?"

With a clang and a flash, the man in red's sword flew into the air, spinning before landing in the hand of the eldest man. He pointed the sword to the fur-clad man and raised his own claymore to Link and the newcomer, glaring intently at the boy in blue. The boy turned his aim to the man nervously.

"Don't try it!" the grizzled man barked. Link glanced back and forth between the two, both staring daggers. Eventually the boy in blue ceded, lowering his bow. Link pushed the newcomer away and dropped his sword, the fur-clad man following suit.

"Much better," the one-eyed man muttered. He didn't lower his swords. "Now, am I to assume both of you young men are also called Link?"

The man in white and headbanded boy – the only two who had not yet spoken – nodded slowly.

"As am I," the man stated. Eyes widened further as the man lowered his swords. The wolf-pelted boy in particular looked especially shocked. "It would seem to reason, then, that this is no coincidence."

"Nine Links…" the headbanded boy mumbled, dropping his sword and putting a hand to his head.

"Pick that up, son, we haven't figured this out yet," the man said. He sheathed his claymore and handed the stolen sword back to its owner, motioning for Link and the fur-clad man to follow suit. "But let's be calm about this. Killing each other won't give us answers."

Each of the men sheathed their weapons and took a step back. The newcomer hastily picked up his scabbard and re-strapped it to his back, taking a position as far from Link as he could manage and eyeing him warily. The fur-clad man didn't remove his gaze from the eldest – he didn't even blink.

They all remained silent, watching each other suspiciously for what felt like ages. _Nine people named Link? Is that the truth?_ The more he thought on it, as preposterous as it sounded, the more he believed it. After all, he had woken up in the woods with no idea how he had gotten there not 24 hours before. He had seen many unbelievable things on his journeys. A part of him deep inside wanted to chalk this up to his life being strange and just accept it as the truth, but the logical part of him protested fiercely. _They must be lying. Or perhaps I am seeing things. The boy in blue could have poisoned the food. Damn, I shouldn't have trusted his word on those herbs!_ That thought was quickly whisked away, however, as the man in white finally spoke.

"Zelda."

The other eight men's heads swiveled to him in surprise.

He looked thoughtful for another second before continuing. "We all know her, don't we? Personally know her, I mean."

An image of the beautiful brunette princess flashed through Link's mind, followed by the memory of auburn hair and lavender perfume.

"Each of us knows her… because we were chosen. Chosen as her hero. Am I right?"

The looks on their faces was all the confirmation the man needed. He slumped to the ground and peered up at the sky. "The curse held true…"

Link was thoroughly confused now. _All of us? Chosen as her hero? How? What?_ He searched the ring of men for a face that didn't look utterly dumbfounded and came up empty. _How can this be?_

"How do you know that?" the man in red demanded, fear glinting behind his eyes. When the man in white didn't speak, the man with the scarf answered.

"I think I have a theory," he puzzled. The men waited intently for him to continue. "Am I… correct in assuming we each have experienced the unbelievable?"

Link almost laughed. _Experienced? I'm pretty sure my whole life is unbelievable at this point._

The man took the pregnant pause as a yes. "Then… on my own journeys, I encountered a sorceress who told me what she called, 'The Legend of the Hero'."

"What does this have to do with anything?" the man in red shouted impatiently.

"Everything," he replied flatly. "This sorceress told me of the Goddesses methods, and that when Hyrule's need was greatest, the spirit of the Chosen Hero was destined to be born again and banish evil from the realm."

He approached the man in white, kneeling to eye-level and holding his gaze. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

Slowly, gravely, with heartache in his eyes, the man nodded.

"Then… you know who we are, don't you?"

Again, the man nodded.

"W-Wait…" the fur-clad man stammered, "The spirit of the Chosen Hero… born again as in reincarnated?" The blonde man nodded solemnly.

The lobster-shirt boy rubbed the heel of his palm into his temple, pulling at his poofy yellow hair as he chimed, "So the hero from Grandma's legend is… reborn over and over?"

The blonde man furrowed his brow. "What is your grandma's legend?"

"Well…" The boy was thinking hard. "Before Old Hyrule sank-"

"Wait, Hyrule _sank?_ " the man in red scoffed. "Are you sure you didn't land on your head when you fell out of that tree?"

"Quiet!" the eldest snapped suddenly. The man shut his mouth with a scowl. Of everyone in the group, Link had expected the eldest to have the most answers, but based on how intently he watched the boy as he continued, he suspected he was just as perplexed as the rest of them.

"Before Old Hyrule sank, the kingdom was threatened by an evil from the western desert. It was powerful and seized a piece of the Triforce, burying the kingdom in darkness, until out of nowhere a hero wearing green appeared and sealed away the evil." The boy furrowed his brow. "After it was sealed away he vanished without a trace, and even when the evil escaped he didn't appear again. The Gods had to sink Hyrule to keep the evil at bay."

The group was silent for a minute before the man in red scoffed again. "Ridiculous, that is. As you can see, Hyrule is fine and dandy and _not_ underwater."

"Well duh," the boy shot back, "This is _New_ Hyrule. Geez, most of you are older than me. Didn't you live on the Great Sea?" The man in red looked even more confused.

"Tell me more about the hero," the eldest man said, cutting off further argument.

"Uh," the boy continued, "Well, Grandma always called him 'the Hero of Time' because he used time travel or something to beat evil. She never really told me what sort of time travel that was or how he pulled it off."

The grizzled man's single eye widened as the boy spoke. Link was still utterly perplexed. _Legends? Heroes? The only legend I know is the Legend of Zelda, and there was no hero in that. The only "chosen" hero was me – sort of._ The day the Triforce appeared on the back of his hand flashed vividly before his eyes. _What are they talking about? What am I missing?_

"Again I ask, what does this have to do with anything?" The man in red was getting more and more frustrated by the minute. The grizzled man, the boy in blue, and the wolf-pelt boy all seemed preoccupied, staring intently into space, while the rest watched the blonde man in deepening bewilderment. The man in white had his gaze locked on the forest floor.

"Before I explain, you must agree to seriously consider what I am about to say." The man in red nodded and motioned for him to continue. "I believe… that we are all incarnations of the Hero."

Link's jaw dropped. The group went silent and all that could be heard was the crackling of the dwindling fire. _Incarnations? As in… reincarnations of the hero's spirit?_

"Hah," the man in red exhaled nervously, "Just because we're all guys named Link, this is the conclusion you jump to? Ridiculous."

"Are you not, then?" the blonde man continued. "The way you wielded your sword tells me you've seen your fair share of combat. Have you not done something that would label you a hero?"

Link ran a hand through his hair, gripping at his scalp. Visions of monster-ridden Hyrule raced through his mind, his wanderings in the ancient labyrinths coming to the forefront. Despite the preposterousness of the suggestion, it made all too much sense. The Triforce had chosen him. This would explain why. His fierce battle against his shadow flashed across his memory. Blue eyes. Auburn hair. _This… this is why we're all here, isn't it?_

The man in red glanced about anxiously, obviously not convinced of his own argument. "I… I have."

"And you all," the blonde man continued, "You can say the same, can't you?"

Uncomfortable looks and silence was the only answer he got – and the only answer he needed. He turned over to the man in white, who nodded slowly.

"So…" the lobster-shirt boy began, "It's safe to say the rest of you woke up in the forest in the dead of night too?"

The blonde man gave a start. "I hadn't even considered that. I did, yes."

"As did I," the headbanded boy added, "and I have to add I hardly recognized the map of Hyrule at the inn."

"Oh good," the boy in blue grunted, "Glad to know I'm not crazy. I didn't either."

The man in red looked even more frustrated now. "I'm still not sold on this whole being-the-same-person nonsense." His voice wavered slightly. "I also woke up in the woods in the middle of the night, but that doesn't mean we're all copies of some mythical hero's spirit or the like."

"No no, copies are different," the headbanded boy cut in.

"What should I say then, versions? They are equally nonsensical."

"Perhaps not," the eldest put in. It had been quite some time since he had spoken. He stood and gestured to the lobster-shirt boy. "You said the man in your legends traveled through time, yes?" The boy nodded.

"I have also heard tell of such a legend," the boy in blue added.

"As have I," the blonde man said.

"And," the man continued cautiously, "you each have thusly been chosen as heroes in your own time?"

"By the princess herself," the blonde man and the wild boy said simultaneously before giving each other strange looks.

"Well," the lobster-shirt boy hummed, "It was more like I went to rescue my sister from a demon bird and I kind of just… ended up with the job." The two others turned their strange looks from each other to him instead.

"Regardless, I think that perhaps…" The grizzled man exhaled slowly. "I am that hero."

At this point, Link was desensitized to surprise – the other men seemed to be reaching that point as well, though he noticed the wolf-pelt boy's slight inhale despite how he tried to hide it.

"I… fought a malicious foe from the desert tribe, and did so by bending time," the man said.

The man in red laughed hesitantly. "Well, yes, anyone could claim that now couldn't they?"

"But few know," he challenged, "that I used the Royal Family's hidden treasure, the Ocarina of Time, to do so."

"You could easily make that up. We don't know that there even is such a treasure!"

As they continued to argue, the man in white silently got to his feet and returned to his bedroll by the fire. He gently took a seat, reached into his pack, and withdrew a beautiful, curved lyre. Entirely plated in a soft-lustered gold, the arms and soundbox were engraved with an intricate variation of the great bird in the Hylian crest. The strings shimmered in the dim light. Link had never seen an instrument of such quality – not even in the royal palace.

Without a word the man began to pluck a few notes. The slow, cascading introduction drew the group's attention. Link's heart skipped a beat. _Do I… know this song?_

The man's fingers danced skillfully over the strings as a tune began to form. He wove a harmony among the arpeggiations with firm accents, slowly adding more layers of chords. Link felt something stirring in his chest – an energy he could not recognize nor describe. The man's eyes were closed softly as he played, building the melody out of the sounds and silences echoing in the dark forest. _I… I know I've never heard this song before, and yet… why do I feel this way?_

The music swelled into a powerful refrain. Tears stung at the back of Link's eyes. _What is this feeling?_ He noticed a tear roll down from the eldest man's single eye. The man in white leaned into a final crescendo, and as the final cadence reached its peak, Link understood.

_We are the Spirit of the Hero._

The man in white finished and opened his eyes. The other eight men stood silently, eyes wet and mouths agape. He smiled slightly. "It's safe to guess the Song of the Hero spoke to you, then?"

Link half expected the man in red to protest again, as he had been doing since the moment they met, but he remained quiet. Finally, the fur-clad man chuckled.

"That's quite the song," he grinned, "Where'd you learn it? A whistling rock in the forest, perhaps?"

The man in white smirked awkwardly. "Dragons, actually."

All of the mistrust Link had harbored only minutes before was suddenly replaced by trust; illogical, confusing, emotion-driven trust, but trust nonetheless. The blonde man had been right; all nine of them had a deep connection, one that had been awoken by the song. He met the gaze of the newcomer – the boy he had nearly killed – and felt an incredible twinge of guilt. _I… almost ended another version of me._

"So wait," the lobster-shirt boy said, turning back to the blonde man, "How does this reincarnation thingy work? Are we all the same person?" His eyes grew even wider. "If one of us dies do we all die?! Quick, did any of you get a butt bruise when I fell out of the tree?!"

The blonde man laughed. "No, I'm pretty sure we're still separate people." The boy sighed in relief. "From what the sorceress told me, I believe we all have individual spirits born from that of the first hero – sort of like how a tree has many branches. We are all connected to the same 'trunk' but are distinct in our growth and experiences. However, we are still one tree."

"Is that how it's possible for us to meet?" the fur-clad man asked honestly. The blonde man shrugged slightly and nodded.

The group was silent for a moment again, until the man in red cleared his throat.

"Well, I suppose we should stick together." He coughed again. "But in all honesty, did the Goddesses _have_ to give us all the same name? Pain in the ass, if you ask me."

The group broke into raucous laughter. Link nearly doubled over, his laughs reduced to a squeaky wheeze. It was just the comment needed to lighten the mood. The eldest was the first to catch his breath, though still smiling wide.

"I suppose you could call me Time, as some of you already know me as such." He gestured to the lobster-shirt boy.

"What, you don't like 'old man'?" the man in red grinned. It was clear he was enjoying the banter.

The grizzled man – _Time_ – chuckled. "What about yourself? Or do I need to call you 'fiesty one' like I have been in my head?"

The group laughed harder as the man's jaw dropped, appalled. He gave a disgruntled squint and thought for a moment. "Well, I've only been addressed by one title before. The princess called me "Hero of Legend" at the celebration feast. So, perhaps simply 'Legend'?"

"Fits the ego," the boy in blue nodded, smirking. The man in red – _Legend_ – became even more infuriated.

"What would you call yourself, then?" he taunted.

"Easy," the boy replied. "Champion. The King himself gave me that title."

"Now there," Time cut in, "At this rate we'll all have names only to stroke our pride."

The boy sighed. "Well, I guess the ancient monks called me Hero of the Wild. Wild will do."

"Seems fitting," the headbanded boy quipped. The wild boy – _Huh. I guess I've already been calling him that_ – shook his head with a grin. "I'll go by Light. A couple kidnapped maidens took to calling me Hero of Light after I set them free."

"Cool, matches what I was going to pick," the fur-clad man picked up. "I'll go by Twilight – also called by a similar title." The boy Link shared a room with – _Light_ – and the fur-clad man – _Twilight_ – exchanged simple grins.

"Well," the blonde man began, clapping his hands together, "I've been called Hero of Souls, but I don't take much of a liking to that. How's my official title, Captain of Warriors?"

"No way I'm calling you captain," Legend scoffed.

"Warriors isn't bad, though," Twilight put in. The blonde man – _Warriors_ – nodded satisfactorily.

"I'll go by Wind!" the lobster-shirt boy chimed. "My talking boat friend called me that once!" The group gave him an odd look. _Wind. I will remember that. Least I can do for that sliver on your neck._

"Sky is good for me," the man in white added. "Not a title, just where I'm from."

"Wait, what?" Wild blurted. "Sky is where you're _from_?"

The man in white – _Sky_ – rubbed the back of his neck. "Skyloft, actually. I get the feeling most of you are surface-dwellers, so that seems to be my defining quality at present."

Wild continued to stare incredulously. Time turned to Link expectantly. "What about you? How shall we address you?"

Link looked around, caught slightly off-guard. _What should they call me? I've never really had a title. I guess the princess called me the Hero of Hyrule once, but that's already a name, and one we will use often._ He thought a moment more, trying to pick a defining quality, but the more he pondered, the less he felt like he had one. _I'm just a traveler. Hardly handed a great destiny like these men seem to have been. I can't very well go by 'traveler' though can I?_

The group grew slightly concerned, watching the last Link's eyes dart about as he thought.

"Surely you've been given a title?" Warriors stated it more than he asked. Link shook his head.

"Are you from anywhere interesting, like Sky?" Twilight added. Link shook his head again.

Time spoke next. "Then, perhaps, is there something specific you were chosen to do that would work? The reason for your quest?"

Link's eyes widened. _Yes! That will work!_ He smiled. It was perfect. The reason he was brought to the northern castle. The reason the mark appeared on his hand. The reason _she_ had slept for so long. He would name himself after the very piece of the golden power he was called to obtain. He took a breath.

"You may call me Courage."


	5. Chapter 5

The morning air was crisp and cool, frost glistening on every surface. Though the sky was still dark and the forest almost black, Link – now named Courage – knew the sun was up and simply hidden by the mountains to the east. It would be at least another hour before the sky lit up, and another hour beyond that for the light to penetrate the towering trees. Still, their party needed to set out.

The night before had been an interesting one, to say the least. Setting aside the strange revelation that he now traveled with eight other variations of himself, the discussion on _why_ they were brought together, _how_ they ended up here, and _what_ exactly is going on was plenty for his mind to chew on. Despite all their theories, they had only been able to determine one thing: someone was in danger, and a lot of it. The rest, Time had said, they couldn't figure out without more information. It was agreed they would head to Castle Town – hopefully to speak with the Royal Family – and that they would break camp as early as possible the next morning.

Courage took another breath, enjoying the near-silence of the sleeping woods for a moment longer. _I'll have to wake them. We can't afford to wait for true daylight._ He stood and looked to the fire where Light sat. They had kept it going for the sake of their islander, who couldn't manage to keep warm without it. Wind was curled up in three extra blankets not a foot from the firepit and still shivering. Courage had done plenty of travel and was very used to acclimatizing quickly, but to live your whole life on a warm, tropical ocean and then be dropped in the middle of a pine forest at the start of winter? That would test even his abilities.

"It's time, then?" Light asked softly.

"From the looks of it," Courage replied, then gestured to the quivering bundle, "Wake him last, though. Doubt he's had enough rest in this cold."

Light nodded and stood, making his way to the next-closest bedroll. Courage knelt next to Wild and put a hand to his sword before nudging the man gently.

Just as he expected, Wild jolted awake and drew his sword halfway before realizing who was there. Courage smiled. _I suppose we all have that in common_. He motioned for Wild to sheath his sword and to try to stay quiet, nodding his head in the direction of Wind. Wild nodded in return, calming his pant and setting to preparing breakfast.

The others awoke in a much similar way. Most started to draw swords and rose with a burst of adrenaline. Light almost had an ear taken off when he nudged Twilight, for which Twilight apologized profusely. Courage approached Legend with that reaction in mind, but to his surprise Legend didn't stir after a first, second, _or_ third nudge. It wasn't until Wild sprinkled some pine needles over his face that the man showed signs of life, and those signs were… less than ecstatic.

Once Legend was awake and no longer bloodthirsty, they set to breaking camp. Light and Courage were already fully equipped, having been on watch, and most of the others only had to strap on their weapons. Time and Warriors, however, had opted not to sleep in their armor. The time it took Warriors to don his vambraces and Time his plated cuirass allowed for Wild to roast some of the frozen boar, which, when Wind awoke, he found he desperately needed.

"I c-can't believe how w-well this is warming me up," he chattered from inside his blanket cocoon.

"Pink safflina does that," Wild stated through a mouthful, "as do sunshrooms, if you cook them. Handy in a pinch."

"These will help, too." Light held out a pair of boots. Wind dropped his breakfast and shoved them onto his feet.

"Ohhhh man that's _so_ much better," he sighed, flopping back on the forest floor.

"I'll need them back eventually," Light intoned. "You can probably get your own when we get to Lehara."

At that Wind heaved himself back into a sitting position, shoved the rest of the boar steak into his mouth, and leapt to his feet. "Weshl ngu bem!" In one motion he had his gear off the ground and on his back, and without another word was headed down the road. The other Links exchanged surprised looks and hastened to get going themselves. Courage quickly rolled up the abandoned blanket cocoon and stowed it in his enchanted pouch, jogging to catch up with his lobster-shirted friend.

Courage had expected the journey to be less quiet than it had been with only five of them, but he was soon proven wrong. While Legend's occasional cursing was joined by Wind humming here and there, no one said a word. Rather than tense, though, it seemed peaceful. _I suppose,_ Courage thought, _we all have probably spent a fair amount of time alone._ He certainly had.

Courage's mind drifted to his time in the labyrinths. He'd been so young then. How old had he been? Could he even remember? _Maybe somewhere around thirteen, fourteen?_ That time was so foggy. Even if he had known how old he was when he encountered Impa, the ancient underground of Hyrule didn't show the passage of time. Devoid of light, warmth, and populated only by monsters, the months he spent there – or perhaps years; he did not know – had left him without a lot to say. When your lantern went out and all you could do was feel your way along the walls, silence was survival.

More than that, silence was safety. In the dankness of a decrepit dungeon, it gave him comfort to hear all that was going on in a room. To know with a surety that nothing could sneak up on him. To always have the upper hand. Silence gave him that. In silence there were no surprises, and when surprises included blades to the gut, it was better that you didn't encounter any. Whether or not the other Links shared _his_ reasoning, he had no doubt that they had their own.

The walk went rather quickly, for being so quiet. Midday came and warmed their skin as they paused to pass out some of the deer jerky, then passed quickly into dusk as they came up on the town. The forest gave way into outlying farms leading up to a mess of buildings set on a river. Lehara was less of a town and more of a small city. Courage hadn't seen many of this size, and felt something twist in the back of his stomach looking at the complicated streets. It made him uneasy, being only able to see where the town began and not where it ended. _Too much potential for surprises._

"Courage?"

Courage gave a start and turned to Time. "Hm? What?"

"He asked if you were alright," Legend sighed, tilting his head. "'Courage' is seeming less and less like a fitting name. You look like you could be sick."

Courage gave him a short glare and turned to answer Time. "I'm fine. Just got a bad feeling is all."

Time nodded. "Let's find an inn quickly. A heavily armed group of our size is sure to draw attention."

"I need my own boots, still," Wind piped up. He kicked the toe of one foot into the ground and looked sheepishly at Light. "They're, uh, a bit small."

"All the more reason to find an inn," Warriors put in, stretching his arms over his head. "The innkeeper – if he's worth his salt – can tell us where the best cobbler is."

The group set off into the town at a quick pace. The streets were nearly empty, with only a few stragglers rushing about their last-minute errands. Courage noticed suspicious glances being cast out from under the awnings of roadside stalls and windows that quickly slid shut. The feeling of mistrust wasn't new to him – in his time the people were necessarily suspicious of everyone – but feeling it on this scale was something else. _I guess I_ am _traveling with some pretty conspicuous partners._ He generally didn't wear much chainmail and blended in well with any crowd of travelers; Time's full suit of armor, however, did not.

"Mommy," a little boy squealed, clutching his mother's apron, "Is that man a soldier?"

The boy's mother patted his head and glanced warily at the group. "I'm not sure, sweetie, but it's rude to point like that. Come along."

Time chuckled as the woman scurried away, herding her son along in front of her. "I forget how extravagant this armor is."

Warriors raised an eyebrow. "Is that not your usual garb?"

"I wouldn't say that it is," Time replied, examining the back of his gauntlet. "I've certainly used this equipment before, but not often, and not for a very long time." He laughed. "I suppose, though, that even if _I_ were dressed more plainly, your fine tunic and pauldrons would still draw the same attention."

Warriors chuckled. "You're right, but in my case that's what they're _meant_ to do."

"Over there!" Twilight rushed to the front of the group, pointing down the street. Courage quickly found what he was looking at – a carved hanging sign of a gluttonous cyclops with the name "The Drunken Hinox" embellished in tarnished silver underneath. On the street below was a barrel with a plank leaning against it that read "Lodgings Available" in a messy scrawl. The Links exchanged nods and pushed open the door.

The bottom floor – as expected – was a tavern of sorts. Considerably larger than the one at Beaverville, the spacious room held a dozen tables and had a small stage on the opposite wall from the bar. Courage breathed a sigh of relief at seeing most of the tables full and hearing raucous singing fill the air. Their party would likely go unnoticed, even with their heavy gear. Assuming they didn't stir up any trouble, of course.

"G'devening, young masters." A short, round man with a shiny bald head and scraggly red mustache called to them from behind the bar. "Here for a drink? Finest ale in all of Hyrule is served right here!"

"Actually," Legend said, stepping up to the counter, "we're here for the 'inn' part of your fine establishment. How much is one night?"

The man looked at the party and stroked his chin. "Nine of you, eh? Well, each of my rooms only has two beds, but I suppose if you paid for four I could give you three and haul an extra mattress into each of them. That'd run you… 800 rupees?" The man ignored Legend's dumbfounded face and picked up a stein and a washcloth. "No, 850 with a ninth breakfast thrown in. I can discount you on the rooms but my wife'll have my head if I discount her work in the kitchens."

Courage could barely believe his ears. 850 rupees? He'd never so much as _seen_ that much money, let alone spent that much on a room. Based on the expressions the other Links bore, he wasn't alone in that. _What kind of economic boom is Hyrule in right now that an inn warrants that kind of pricetag?_

Light choked out a cough before cutting in. "Sir, I'm sure this town has many other inns where we can find a better price. Surely you can cut that down a little further?"

The man smiled. "Now, son, I know what you're thinking. 'He's taking us for fools and raising the price for us cuz we're from out of town', right?" The man knocked on the sign above the bar with the back of his fist. "I don't roll that way, young master. My prices are set right here. Lehara gets enough travelers for me to make a living without that kind of dirty work."

Courage squinted at the board, and sure enough, his prices were listed there, however faintly. _200 still seems ridiculous, especially where one night was only 30 in the next town over._

Wild laughed suddenly, startling the other Links out of their stupor. He sauntered up to the bar and leaned over it, turning his back to the rest of the tavern and blocking any strangers view of the three, shimmering gold rupees he placed on the counter. Courage could barely believe his eyes.

"900 rupees for nine travelers in three rooms seems a fair price," Wild hummed, "wouldn't you say? "

The shock that overtook the Links was nothing compared to that which hit the barkeep. Courage nearly jumped out of his skin when the stein the man was cleaning hit the ground with a loud clatter. It wasn't loud enough to draw the attention of the whole room, but a few drunkards down the bar glanced their way. _Exactly what we need._

The barkeep stammered his reply. "Y-you don't seem to have much sense for bargaining, son, I wasn't asking for that much."

Wild slid the shiny gold gems discreetly across the counter. "Oh I know, but decent people deserve decent rewards. I can't imagine it's easy to compete in a hub town like this with a policy of honesty." The long-haired man took on a sly grin. "It's not like I'm short on cash anyhow."

The innkeeper's eyes were nearly as round as his figure now, but he took the jewels and nodded. "R-right this way, young masters…"

Wild sauntered after the man much more confidently than his awestruck fellows. _Is he really that naive?_ Courage kept his hand on the hilt of his blade as they followed the pudgy little man out of the room. _This is the second time he's flaunted something valuable within earshot of others. Doesn't he know that makes him a prime target?_

"Here you are, sirs," the man said, gesturing to the three doors at the end of the first floor corridor, "I'll have my staff bring you those cots right away." He pulled two large key rings out of his apron pocket and fingered through the heftier. With a changle he unhooked three marked keys and handed them to Wild, gave a casual salute, and waddled back to the tavern.

Wind clapped Wild on the back with a whistle. "Wow, Wild, didn't know you carried that kind of cash on you."

Wild smiled and examined the keys with fascination. "These are high-quality keys. I sure hope he didn't give us his best rooms."

"Oh shut up," Legend growled, snatching them from his hands. "I hope to the Hylia he _did_. We'll need them with the giant, flashing 'rob me' sign you just hung on our backs!"

Wild looked taken aback. "'Rob me' sign? What?"

"He's right," Light sighed. "You really shouldn't flaunt your wealth like that."

"Flaunt?" Wild scratched his head and looked at Wind, who was equally confused. "I wasn't- I just- the man's a nice guy!"

"Unfortunately," Time added solemnly, "I don't think the innkeeper was the only one privy to our conversation."

"And even if no one else heard exactly what was going on," Twilight added, "I'm pretty certain the people down the bar picked up on the fact that _something_ interesting happened."

Wild opened his mouth to respond, but Courage couldn't stand to let tensions rise any higher – he may agree with the others, but berating Wild now wouldn't change what happened.

"Making a scene like this isn't going to help," he cut in, passing a level stare around the circle. "We have more pressing matters than a few thieves in a random tavern. Let's just settle in for the night."

"You're right," Warriors said firmly. "We need to focus on the big picture right now."

The men shared uncomfortable looks but all hummed in agreement. Courage felt a twinge in his gut. He still couldn't remember what had happened after he began his toast at the feast. _Is she safe? Is she even alive? Dear Farore please let her be alive._

Sky broke the tense silence with a change of subject. "Let's decide on rooms. That's a good place to start."

"I call Twilight!" Wind shouted excitedly.

Courage felt himself relax. _She's fine. I'll take care of this mess soon enough and then I'll be back._ He put a hand to the lump in his pouch and smiled. _I'll be back soon, Zelda._

* * *

Wild rolled over uncomfortably on the feather cot. It was well past dark now – likely past midnight – but he still couldn't sleep. Not that taking one of the nice, plush beds would have helped; he took the cot on purpose since he knew it wouldn't matter. He hadn't slept comfortably since… since before he could remember. Sure, there had been the occasional specialty bed at an inn or spa somewhere that made it so he could at least _dream_ something, but even that hadn't been deep or particularly restful.

He chuckled to himself. He had tried a Zora waterbed once, but if one even so much as wiggled a toe the watertight mattress would tremble and make all sorts of noise. When he had finally drifted off, he shifted his arm, startling himself awake and leaping off the bed with a screech, sword in hand. He grinned at the memory. _That poor innkeeper nearly had a heart attack._

Luckily he didn't usually need much sleep, either. He hardly slept the night before in their camp, and didn't feel particularly tired now either. Did he even remember what a good night's rest felt like? He couldn't recall. He'd never really wanted one anyhow. At least, not more than to see what the difference was. Was there a difference? Would he function better with more sleep?

A knot formed in his stomach and his smile faded. He ran his hand over the web of scars on his arm. _Did I function better?_ Something tugged at the back of his mind – a gnawing feeling he couldn't place, but couldn't ignore. Impressions trickled into his consciousness. Complete blackness. Water. He was underwater. Weight on his chest. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't _think_.

He shook his head and pulled his hand away, rolling onto his stomach and shoving both fists under his pillow to stop himself from tracing the wounds. _I don't need to think about that._

That was one disadvantage of not sleeping much – it left one far too much time to think. In his opinion, though, there were far more advantages than disadvantages. You didn't absolutely _need_ it, for instance. If you were in a rush, you didn't _really_ have to stop for camp. You were also less likely to get caught off guard. You could be your own watch when you camped on your own, and an extra set of ears when you had companions. In general he considered it a blessing.

Sky shifted in his bed, shaking Wild from his thoughts. He listened as the man's breathing fell back into the slow rhythm of sleep. Courage lay in the other bed, his breath almost imperceptible. Wild was glad these two were the ones rooming with him. The others had all gotten so upset with him earlier. Had it really been such a big deal that they had to go and lecture him on it? He had been discreet, hadn't he? At least he wasn't actively showing it off!

He frowned. _So I'm being obvious, but Time and Warriors with their expensive armor aren't? Time's pauldrons have_ gold _inlays! And Legend's got like, 30 shiny jeweled rings on each hand. Why are they so worried about_ me _making us a target? Honestly if any of them are half as good at swordplay as I am we really shouldn't have to worry about bandits at all._

Almost as if summoned by his thoughts, he suddenly felt a hand grab his hair and yank his head off the down pillow. He gasped as a sliver of cold metal met his throat.

"Where'zzz yer wallet?" a raspy voice slurred quietly into his ear. Wild felt a boot press down on his back as the man pulled harder, and he swallowed the cry that attempted to escape.

"C-cabinet…" Wild breathed. The man didn't seem to hear and yanked harder, and Wild hissed.

"Where'z yer wallet?!" the man said louder. His breath smelled of booze and the way the knife wobbled against Wild's skin said he was very drunk, never mind the fact that he was no longer maintaining any semblance of stealth. "Tellme whereitiz! I'llzzslit yer throat!"

Wild heard feet hit the floor as the man started to scream. Courage's voice started to call out to him but the man drowned it out.

"Donnntry it, boy!" the madman shouted. "Whozzzzswordoyou think'm using, huh?" Wild felt the steel sliver into his skin just a hair as the man cackled maniacally. "Damn, kiddo, if I didn'know yer friend'ad sucha hefffty wallet I mightajustaken thizzz beaut!" He leaned into Wild's back and gave a tug. Wild couldn't stop the yelp.

Footfalls sounded in the next room and Warriors' muffled but commanding voice penetrated the wall. The bandit tensed and pressed the sword closer.

"ShhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH!" he demanded, "Dammmmmitnow there'zzzno clean getaway. I tol- _told_ you to be _quiet!_ " The man removed his boot and yanked Wild to his feet, keeping the blade against his neck. If Wild weren't so preoccupied with his life hanging in the balance he might have stopped to admire Courage's ruby-encrusted blade – or the miraculous fact that the inebriated bandit hadn't slit his throat by accident already. Instead, now that he could somewhat see the dark room, he searched desperately for a solution.

His own sword was tucked under the cot on the opposite side from where Courage now stood. Courage had the sense not to go for either of their bows, which were locked safely in the cabinets with their other possessions. Even if he had a weapon, though, the drunkard had Wild safely caught as a hostage – even if the others burst into the room right this second that wouldn't free him from his grasp. He doubted he could overpower the man without getting cut in the process – any movement would drive the pristine blade edge right through skin and into his trachea. And most amazingly, how was Sky still asleep?

"Put down the sword," Courage urged calmly, "We'll give you our wallets, just let go of my friend."

"Hellllyou will!" the man jabbed back. "Gimme the cashhhfirst!"

"Easy, easy," Courage continued, inching toward the cabinets. "Give me a second to get them."

The man quavered and wobbled slightly as Courage turned to unlock the pine cupboards, barely visible in the dark. The click of the key in the lock made the man flinch and Wild inhaled sharply as the blade jolted slightly. Courage exhaled and wrapped his hand around the brass doorknob.

Just as he moved to swing the doors open, the other Links crashed into the room holding lamps and swords. Courage jerked around and started to shout a warning and the bandit screamed at the sudden interruption. Wild felt the steel shift and he sent one final plea to Hylia. _Please, let Zelda be happy._

Everything went quiet. Time came to a halt. No pain. No hurt. Just silence.

And then, a gurgle of blood.

Wild opened his eyes slowly and registered a few drops of crimson trickling down his bare chest. The thick liquid was sticky and warm, staining his skin and scars. But, still, the pain didn't come.

Wild turned to look at the bandit and suddenly realized why. He was an ugly man, with a ratty brown beard and wild eyes. Eyes now open in horror as he choked on his own blood, coughing and bubbling more up over his lips. His sword arm lay severed on the mattress below, and through his torso was run a very familiar blade.

Sky pushed the man off the sword with a grimace, hefting it in his hand and frowning down at the dying drunkard. Even covered in blood, the sword glowed like a star. The holy light of the blade shimmered off the gem set in the deep blue hilt, which was carved in the shape of Hylia's sacred bird. At the base of the blade was inscribed the most ancient symbol in Hyrule – the crest of the Triforce.

_The Master Sword_.


	6. Chapter 6

                Wild’s mouth hung open as he gaped at Sky. Blood was spattered on his beige undershirt, glistening in the light of Warriors’ lantern, and droplets plunked against his bare feet, but the man didn’t seem to notice; neither did he notice the similar shocked expressions of the other men, clad in naught but sleepwear, that crowded into the room.

                Sky bent over and picked up Courage’s sword, handing it to him with a grimace. “Those rubies will need cleaning. I can help you with it later if you like.”

                Courage took the bloodied hilt, flinching at the drip that hit his pant leg, but didn’t move his gaze from Sky. “How did you…? You were asleep…?”

                Sky chuckled innocently and rubbed the back of his head. The motion seemed completely incompatible with the deadly precision they saw moments ago. It wasn’t helped by the crimson liquid he unconsciously smeared into his sandy brown hair.

                “I _was_ asleep,” he confessed, looking to Wild, “right up until he had you on your feet. It shook the bed and woke me up.”

                “That’s quite some skill,” Light added. The shorter man sheathed his sword with a grin. “I’ve never seen someone move so fast, or so gracefully. I’m amazed you didn’t even nick Wild.”

                Wild barely registered what was being said. His gaze was glued to Sky’s hands as the man sat on the edge of his bed and carefully cleaned off the sparkling blade. He held it delicately, lovingly – more so than Wild had ever done with any weapon, even Mipha’s trident.

                Abruptly the hands stopped. Wild looked up to find Sky watching him in return, head tilted and eyes perplexed. He glanced to Light, who carried a similar look as he observed the others in the room. Courage watched nervously, slowly beginning to clean his own blade. Wild realized suddenly that it was not only him staring in awe, but the other five heroes as well. They met his eyes, carrying the same shock and recognition he felt himself.

                “Uh, everything okay?” Courage asked hesitantly. The room remained silent. Wild hardly noticed the creak of the bedframe as Sky shifted uncomfortably.

                “What is going on?” Light’s question carried more than a hint of frustration.

                Time swallowed, his voice barely a croak. “That blade… Where…?”

                “Where’d you find that?” Wind puzzled. So far Wild had only seen the lobster-shirted boy filled with youthful humor. Even when they had discussed their situation back in the woods, his attitude had held a cheerful, nonchalant air. His words now were void of any humor, his tone clipped and intense, though still rather fast.

                Sky looked between them, then looked down at his lap. Wild watched intently as the man ran a hand over the sparkling steel.

                “This sword…” He looked to Light and Courage. “This sword is the Blade of Evil’s Bane – the ultimate weapon, created specifically to be man’s most powerful tool against the darkness. And it looks like most of you recognize it.”

                Light and Courage glanced at each other, dumbfounded. Legend pushed his way past Twilight and Warriors to face Sky directly.

                “I saved the kingdom with that sword,” Legend said bluntly. “Why do _you_ have it? Are you my descendant or the like?”

                Wild’s stomach churned. _Descendant?_ He felt his hands turn sweaty. _Do_ I _have descendants?_ He met Sky’s eyes, the torchlight flickering in his pupils. Azure. Crystal clear azure. _Like mine._

                “You’re not the only one to have wielded the sword,” Wind put in. Of the group, he seemed the most calm, once again proving Wild’s assumptions about his maturity quite wrong – or his assumptions about his innocence quite right. “None have you have been on the Great Sea, apparently, which means if any of us is going to be anyone’s descendant, it’s probably me. And I left it on the bottom of the ocean.”

                Sky opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a loud crash from the floor above. The heroes jolted into high alert.

                “More bandits?” Courage hissed.

                “Oh Goddesses,” Warriors breathed, “We have a corpse in here.”

                “Wild’s hurt, too,” Wind pointed out. Wild put a hand to his neck, remembering the sliver of a cut the thief had nicked into his skin. He hadn’t realized how much it was bleeding. A steady but slow trickle wormed its way down his chest, running over the half-dried stains that plastered his front in gooey splotches. He elected to ignore the state of the floor and the cot.

                “We can’t stay the rest of the night,” Twilight said. He rushed to Wild and prompted him to lift his hand. “We’re a target now. I’ll help Wild. Wind, watch the hall. Keep the other guests away from here.”

                Wind nodded and disappeared through the doorframe, sword at the ready. Panicked voices and footsteps sounded from the neighboring rooms as doors were thrown open.

                “I’ll round up our things,” Legend added solemnly. As he left, he muttered under his breath, obviously not intending for Wild to hear. He picked out three words: _Wild. Drunkards. Stupid._

                “Warriors,” Twilight called over his shoulder. The blonde man turned to him attentively. “Help Sky and Courage take care of the mess. Light, work on the swords. Do _not_ leave a _speck_ on that one.” Light nodded firmly, taking the shimmering blade from Sky reverently. “Time, you have bandages, right?”

                The man didn’t respond. Twilight turned away from examining Wild’s neck. “Time?”

                The oldest of them stood stone still, face completely unreadable. Wild couldn’t tell if he was even breathing.

                “Time.”

                He still didn’t move. Wild exchanged looks with Courage.

                _“Link.”_

                Time seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, shaking his head and exhaling deeply before clearing his throat. “Sorry, what?”

                “Bandages,” Twilight said again.

                “Right.” Time hesitated for a moment more, throwing a glance to where Light sat cleaning the blades, before vanishing into the hall.

                Wild couldn’t help but feel uneasy, watching as the others rushed around him. This had been _his_ fault. The bandit didn’t go after Time’s armor. The bandit didn’t go after Legend’s rings. He went straight for Wild’s wallet. And even with the copious overpayment, the bedding and furnishings that would need replacing surely meant the innkeeper would not be pulling a profit.

                “You’re gonna need a new shirt,” Warriors grimaced at Sky. Sky looked down at himself in surprise. “That much blood isn’t going to come out, and you can’t wear your mail without it. I’ll see if I can steal one. Wash up while I do that.”

                “Steal one?” Wild started. The sudden motion in his jaw tugged at the wound on his neck, making him wince. “We already cost this innkeep a whole mattress.”

                “And gained him a whole lot of attention!” Twilight growled. Wild felt himself flinch as the man’s royal blue eyes met his with an icy stare. “I don’t know what kind of person you are or what kind of life you lived, but whenever the forces of evil found out where _I_ was it was generally a _really bad time_ for all involved. We need to move out. _Now_. Before we draw the eye of whatever _thing_ brought us here. A stolen scrap of cotton is the least of this inn’s worries.”

                Wild fell silent again, clenching his jaw as Warriors dashed out of the room. He was quite glad when Time returned and took Twilight’s place, the latter moving to help Light with the swords. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the wolf-pelt boy ticked him off.

                Time finished the bandaging just as Legend burst back into the room, several packs slung over one shoulder and hefting their gear in his arms. He tossed Light his tunic and spread the rest on the bed before throwing on his own garb and strapping his sword on his back. Wild gave Time a grateful nod and rushed to join Sky at the room’s washbasin, hoping to get some of the sticky carnage off of his bare skin before their departure.

                “Heads up, Sky.” Warriors reappeared, tossing a cream-colored shirt to the slightly less-bloody hero, who caught it out of the air. “Is that everything, Legend?”

                “Should be,” the man replied, slipping on the last of his rings. “I grabbed a few blankets as well. Din knows we need them.”

                “So we’re all thieves then…” Wild muttered.

                “Hey it’s your fault we’re in this mess, _Champion!_ ” Legend spat.

                Wild grit his teeth and returned to his task. Rarely had arguing for himself led to any productive outcome, and this seemed to be one of those times. Even as the group gathered hastily and escaped into the dark of the night, he chose not to say any more. People don’t change their minds because of words. They don’t change their expectations or beliefs. It was better to stay quiet. Better to bear it in silence. To let people believe what they needed. He was practiced at that. And practiced at making his actions speak for themselves.

                The heroes crept through the town at a hurried pace. They’d managed to leave the chaos of the inn before any had discovered their… incident, Wind doing a surprisingly good job at directing the pandemonium away from their rooms. He’d convinced the cleaning staff that something was lurking in the stables, and while the patrons scrambled to get a good look, the nine Links made their hasty escape. Now, Time led the way, holding a dimly lit lantern over the crinkled map in his hand.

                “This city is much too large for my liking,” Time grumbled, shaking the map flat to get a better look. “The south gate is easily a half-hour’s jog.”

                “That’s less than helpful,” Warriors groaned. “I don’t want to be anywhere near here when the innkeep finds… _that_.”

                _A half hour?_ Wild had a thought jump into his head, and he jogged to catch up with Time.

                “Let me see.” His request was met with a raised eyebrow, but Time offered it to him, and they came to a stop.

                Wild’s eyes darted over the map intensely. Where they stood now was an offshoot from a larger road some three miles ahead to the northeast, sealed off from the other offshoots almost completely by the tightly-wedged buildings. The larger road led west to a square that split off to the south, winding down through the city and out into the countryside. Following the roads would be just as Time had concluded – at least a half-hour.

                “Well, _Champion?_ Seen something the old man hasn’t?”

                He didn’t dignify that with a response. The most direct route by road was much too long a journey. As the crow flies, that distance was maybe fifteen minutes at most. Wild couldn’t fly anymore, but he could get pretty close.

                Handing back the map, he turned and examined the buildings. _Any of those will do for me, but what about the others?_ He spotted a one-story shop of sorts, wedged between two taller buildings, with sturdy window frames and rather pronounced siding. _That’ll work._

                “Follow me!” He called. He could feel the others exchanging looks of confusion behind him. He took a focusing breath and launched himself forward.

                His nimble footfalls turned into an upward push, landing him on the side of the building several feet up with a firm hold on the wood. The slivers weren’t pleasant, but the ease of the surface and the momentum he had built propelled him up the wall and onto the roof without so much as a stumble. Not that a stumble would’ve stopped him. He’d managed to climb crazier things in a much less graceful fashion, but what worked, worked.

                Wild had expected some of them to have difficulty climbing, but he hadn’t been expecting them to all be staring.

                “Well? Come on! It’ll be faster to cut over the houses.”

He watched them pass around shrugs before they moved to join him.

                “Would you look at that, the man _does_ have a brain,” Legend muttered. Wild was poised to kick him off the building the moment he came up.

                Sky was the first to follow, taking a good run and scrambling up over the edge with a helping hand from Wild. Time followed, being a little more subtle with his movements but still making quick work of the wall. Twilight – to Wild’s inner delight – tried to copy Time’s method, but immediately fell in the dirt. If they weren’t in such a hurry, Wild would’ve straight up cackled.

                “Climbing is a no for me,” Warriors sighed. He reached into his pack and pulled out a tool Wild could not imagine the use of. It seemed to have a handle, sort of like a lamp, but in the darkness, he could only make out that it was made entirely of metal, and _definitely_ not a lamp. “Take a step back. My aim with this has never been great.” He raised the device and pointed it towards the roof.

                Before Wild could so much as duck, the gadget fired. A streak of shiny metal shot out of the apparatus, a chain clinking behind it as the point flew, wedging itself into the rim of the roofing. Warriors took a few steps closer to the building and clicked the device again. With terrifying speed, the chain retracted, pulling Warriors up and launching him just over the lip onto the shingles.

                “Dammit!” Twilight cursed from his spot in the dirt. “Why didn’t I think of that? I have something like that too.”

                “It’s okay,” Legend sang with a smirk, “Your tunic was getting clean anyway. It needed a good roll in the dust.”

                Twilight scowled but removed two similar devices from his pouch, these bearing large claws rather than a point. “Keep talking. I dare you.”

                Wild turned to Sky, puzzled, but saw him also pulling a pair of clawed contraptions from his pack. He turned to Time to ask, and saw he held one almost identical to Warriors’.

                “Agh does _everyone_ have those? Everyone but _me?_ ” he groaned.

                “Looks like!” Wind called from below, brandishing his own. “Hookshots!”

                “A handy tool,” Legend grinned snarkily, also holding a hookshot. “It looks like pretty boy might have a brain too.”

                “That would’ve been so useful…” Wild murmured. All the times he had slipped in the rain. All the times his strength had given out. All the times Revali’s Gale hadn’t _quite_ been enough. _Damn, Hylia, where’s mine?_

                “You and your fancy gadgets,” Courage chuckled suddenly.

                Legend turned to him, irritated. “What, jealous?”

                “Not at all,” Courage grinned. “I don’t need one. Can’t be jealous of something useless.”

                Wild’s indignation turned into a slight smirk, before dropping into an open-mouthed gape. With a step back and a moment’s breath, Courage leapt from the street and onto the roof in a single bound, shimmers of deep blue swirling at his feet.

                Legend’s raised eyebrows dropped into a scowl and he waved his hookshot angrily. “Now that’s just not fair!”

                “Not fair?” Courage laughed. “Is this a competition then?”

                “If it is…” Light began. Wild could make out his shadow fastening something to his headband. A moment later, Light vaulted onto the roof after Courage. Wild could see a large blue feather now tucked behind his ear. “I’m going to win!”

                Wild ducked out of the way as Legend’s hookshot whizzed past, thunking into the wood of the adjacent building. With another click, a blur of red hurtled past him, releasing the hook from its grip and soaring on momentum up into the sky. Silhouetted against the moon, Wild saw a large, feathery cape billowing over the man’s shoulders.

                “Bring it on, shorty!”

                Wild watched in awe – and somewhat in horror – as one by one the others flew over his head. At this rate, he’d be left behind. What had been a frantic escape only moments ago had turned into a game, and one he was _losing_. Did the others even know where they were going?

                He had to get in front. They’d surely get lost if he wasn’t. Surely. That was the only reason he needed to be in first.

                No, who was he kidding? He loved a good contest.

                As even Time left him behind on the roof, whisked away by his metallic miracle, Wild took a crouch, putting a hand to the shingles.

                “C’mon, Revali,” he murmured. “One more time. You love this stuff.”

                The familiar whirl didn’t come.

                “Alright, fine then,” he grumbled. He could practically hear Revali’s laughter from the other side, surely proud he’d slowed him down, but he opted to take being left behind to his advantage. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to show the others the Sheikah Slate’s abilities yet, so this was the perfect moment.

                Wild dropped onto the road behind the shop and set to searching. It wasn’t even a minute before he found what he was looking for. Propped up in the street was another advertisement plank, maybe three feet long and two feet wide, offering apples at half price. He grinned. With another jump and a kick he found himself back on the roof. In the distance he could see blurred figures hopping up and down over the rooftops. Figures that were about to lose.

                He pulled his slate off his belt and hefted it in one hand, adjusting the settings and putting himself in a good position. Then, in one fluid motion, he tossed the board a few feet in front of him and froze it.

The Stasis Rune had honestly become one of his favorites over the years. Particularly handy for a variety of situations. Needed to stop a rock from crushing you? Click. About to get hit in the face with a club? Click. Wanted to cheat at sand seal racing? Click. Freezing things in a time bubble of yellow light, it was an incredibly useful bit of magic. Er, science. Whatever it actually was.

He pulled the mangled sword from his back and began to hack at the floating market sign, using the slate to judge how much inertia he had put into it. As the pulse of the light began to quicken, he flattened to the roof and put a very precise poke into the frozen wood. _Perfect._ Grinning evilly, he jumped onto the board and gripped the front with one hand.

_Here I come, boys._

* * *

                Courage leapt over another building, thanking the Goddesses he had the magic for this. The Jump spell wasn’t too costly, and he could usually make three or four skips this size before he had to cast it again. Absolutely worth it, though. He’d managed to keep up with the others, and had even taken the lead here and there. Admittedly, the pack was very close, and it was impossible to tell who would actually make the town line first, but he was pretty pleased with how he was faring.

                He took another jump to the next row of buildings, landing lightly on the roof as Warriors’ hookshot flew past him. Wind had developed this sort of hookshot-grappling hook technique, using the spring-loaded projectile to gain him some speed and his claw-fisted rope to maneuver more precisely through the air. Sky and Twilight were having a very intense duel, both wielding double clawshots, darting around the rooftops in a tense battle of who could get the best target first. Time, miraculously, was handily beating them both with only the one – Courage could only assume his aiming was faster and more precise.

                Another chimney passed under his feet, Light just behind him and Legend just ahead on his right. Light’s feather gave him more height than Legend’s cloak, much more similar to Courage’s own Jump spell, but Legend’s cloak gave him distance. He’d started using the cloak to glide and aim his hookshot, jolting him forward to the next roof with enough momentum to carry his next jump before he’d repeat the process. It was definitely giving Courage a run for his money, but he had one advantage; it didn’t take as much stamina to cast Jump.

                Suddenly, a torrent of blue and black careened between him and Light, a shout of victorious laughter ringing back to them as it shot past Legend and into the distance. Red sparks trailed behind in the catastrophe’s wake, lighting up the city and highlighting the look of utter disbelief plastered on Legend’s face. The heroes came to a dead halt, and over the rooftop echoed one sentence:

                _“Last one to Castle Town’s a Legend!”_


End file.
